The Best of the Best
by TheSummerNightingale
Summary: What if Hermione and Draco had spent all those years loving each other, but never telling the other? This is their stories, told in both Hermione and Draco's views (still in third-person). Warning: it follows the plotline of the series and beyond; in other words, there's no happy ending (for them, at least).


**Okay, I know that I've got to work on my other Dramione fanfic right now, but I just need to have a little breather from time travel and stuff, so here is a lil' one-shot (it will almost most certainly stay a one-shot) to get my brain working and the words flowing - which is probably why there's no dialogue...**

**But despite that, I hope y'all enjoy! :)**

* * *

Hermione Granger was a clever girl, and she knew it.

She knew it when she was five-years old, as she sat in the classroom, reading, while the other kids ran outside and played. She knew it at age seven, when she got a perfect score on a test, by far the best of the class; most of the other kids had just barely passed.

She knew it when she was ten, when she was awarded for her outstanding academic performance by the Head of her school. And she knew it at eleven, when she came home to find a wizard at her doorstep.

Hermione, at her ripe age, often personally felt that going to Hogwarts, a school of magic, was probably the best indication that she was clever, that she was _unique_. She'd be with people just like her! For once, she would not be teased for her brains.

And when she waved goodbye to her parents on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, at the Hogwarts Express, Hermione didn't doubt that she was clever - not at all.

And then, she got the school. Oh, Hogwarts, with its beautiful torches and majestic structure, with its kind professors and breathtaking library, treated her well. Hogwarts was the perfect place for her. Hogwarts made her feel clever.

Hermione even made friends. Sure, it had taken a month or two, but she suddenly found herself by the sides of Harry Potter - _the_ Harry Potter, the _famous_ one - and Ronald Weasley, and though the two could be idiots at times, they truly appreciated her. They allowed her to _be_ clever.

But as her first year progressed, she came to know that there's always an exception to the rule, and sometimes, that exception creeps up on you until one day, you look up, and it's already got its vices wrapped around you.

That's what Draco Malfoy did to her. Oh, how she hated him. Hermione would always remember how much she hated him, how her first-year self would spend hours fuming, because of that blasted Slytherin. His arrogance was suffocatingly torturous.

Even so, Hermione never realized that he was the exception, until second year, when he called her "Mudblood". That was the first time she truly believed that maybe she wasn't as clever as she thought. The support of Harry, Ron, and Hagrid helped her get over this, but Hermione decided she simply could not let herself be taken aback again.

So she started to keep her eye on Malfoy.

Every time he walked into a room she was in, his distasteful eyes glaring a hole in her head, Hermione was always ready. She came to have a mental list of comebacks she could tell the git whenever he insulted her. So he could see that she wasn't the least bit affected by his comments (though admittedly, the word "Mudblood" often put her in a dejected mood).

Keeping tabs on Malfoy had its advantages, at times. For example, in second year, noticing Malfoy's actions helped her figure out that he was not the one setting the beast on the Muggleborns. And besides that, it was always satisfying to see Malfoy's angered face after one of their skirmishes that she'd obviously won.

But it came to the time, in third year, that she no longer needed a prepared list of retorts - she'd somehow found the amazing ability to counter Draco Malfoy without even trying.

So honestly, she didn't need to keep observing Malfoy. There was no point in it, now that she'd put up her guards, and learned to fight back. But she somehow could never stop. It scared her.

Because Hermione didn't stop noticing, not for the countless times he insulted Harry and jabbed him about being a Champion of the Triwizard Tournament. She certainly didn't stop at the Yule Ball, because even with Viktor at her side, she couldn't help but glance over at Malfoy now and then.

She didn't stop in fifth year, not when she'd found out that he was a Prefect. Not even when he and the rest of the Inquisitorial Squad chased down the members of Dumbledore's Army.

And during all this time, she never knew why she couldn't stop noticing him, not until sixth year.

It was in sixth year that she realized that she knew a whole lot about Draco Malfoy - a whole, terrifying lot. And not only that, but Hermione realized that the extent of which she thought of him was rather odd - sure, Harry was constantly talking about how Malfoy was a Death Eater, but Malfoy was in her mind even more than school was, even more than Sirius's death.

And so it came to her, at sixteen, that maybe she was being too clever for her own good. Or perhaps that she was not clever at all. Because if she _was_ clever, wouldn't she have realized earlier that she was hopelessly infatuated with Draco Malfoy?

Sixth year was the worst year for Hermione. Harry was slipping. Ron was constantly angry with her - but he was the one who was trading six years worth of friendship for a girl who had no idea what the three of them (Harry especially) were going through. You-Know-Who was rising. And she herself couldn't exactly pinpoint her feelings for Malfoy.

Often times, she'd subconsciously catch herself wondering if she'd have a chance with Malfoy, if only they weren't halfway into a war. On opposing sides.

This nice little thought lasted the rest of sixth year, until Dumbledore was murdered by his hand.

It was then that her heart caught up to her clever mind, and she realized that fantasizing would get her nowhere.

So for the next year or so, she really did try to avoid thinking about him. It helped, some, that she went on the run with Harry and Ron. In fact, there came a time where she truly believed that she was falling for her best friend - for Ron.

Well, it didn't last for long, because when the three got caught by the Snatchers, they were taken to Malfoy Manor. And who else would be at Malfoy Manor but Draco Malfoy himself?

He watched her get tortured by his aunt, and didn't do a thing. But Hermione would later pridefully think to herself that at least she was clever enough to not dwell on such matters. Draco Malfoy was on the Dark Side. Hermione was on the Light Side.

This was her little philosophy at the Battle of Hogwarts. Fight the Dark. Help the Light. Fight Malfoy. Help her friends, the ones he tried to kill. And in the Room of Hidden Things, it was Harry, not Hermione, who directly insisted on saving Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle (though she felt that if Harry hadn't, she would have done so anyway).

But all rules have an exception, and this time, the exception was the end of the war, when there was no Light or Dark, so her philosophy wasn't credible anymore. And Hermione found herself where she'd began (or, rather, left off at the end of fifth year). Observing the _Daily Prophet_ for any articles on him.

He was freed, due to Harry's intervention in court. Harry would later tell her that he'd done it for many reasons, but mainly for two: because it was right, and because of her. Hermione had brushed him off, telling Harry that he was speaking nonsense, but she internally thanked Merlin that Harry was a person who noticed things.

But this didn't change anything, because of Ron. Ron, who, Hermione knew, loved her wholeheartedly. He loved her truthfully and passionately, and it hurt her that she knew she'd never love him the same way. Still, she went on dates with him, learned to love him, even if it was just a little bit, and when he asked her to marry him, she said yes.

So at her outdoor wedding, with Harry and Ginny as the best man and maid of honor, Hermione stood at the front next to Ron, but she wasn't looking at her husband-to-be. She was looking through the crowd, because she'd invited him and his fiancee to the wedding. Somewhere in the rows, he was sitting, his arm around Astoria Greengrass, somewhere he was there.

And suddenly, she spotted him. She allowed herself two seconds, two seconds to take in his platinum blond hair, his grey eyes, his- his arm around his fiancee. And then she was turning back to Ron, who was handsome in his dark suit, smiling down at her.

Before she knew it, the preacher was asking her if she promised to be a loving wife to Ron, and there was a silence in the air - one that she was supposed to fill.

Hermione straightened her back and cleared her throat. This was it. This was the moment. She looked into Ron's blue eyes, encouraging her. And she knew that behind, Draco Malfoy was looking at her too (well, most everyone in the room was).

But it was time to let go of Malfoy, of the crush she'd had as a foolish schoolgirl. So Hermione took a deep breath, gave a brilliant smile, and said, "I do."

Because what it came down to was that Hermione Granger was a clever woman. She was a clever woman, but she would never know that Draco Malfoy loved her back.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was the best of the best, and he knew it.

He knew it because he was a Malfoy. Because he was a Pureblood. He grew up under the greatest Wizarding name - he grew up knowing his place.

Therefore, it was no surprise to him when he received his letter from Hogwarts on his eleventh birthday. It was nothing special, going to Diagon Alley and getting his supplies. It was only slightly mesmerizing to go on the Hogwarts Express. And as he strutted onto the train, down its halls of compartments, finding Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle to act as guards (they were so gullible!), he knew that his was _the_ life.

But it was on the Hogwarts Express that he was shot down from his position at the top. By none other than Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.

What a rude half-blood, Potter was. Of course, Draco had to admit that he'd fantasized about meeting Potter - as every Wizarding kid did - but that was when he'd thought Potter was civilized. Potter wasn't. He was far from it, having the _nerve_ to choose a Weasley over him, a Malfoy!

But no matter. It was only a slight hindrance that he wouldn't have the pleasure of telling Father that Harry Potter was his best mate. Especially when he was put into lousy Gryffindor.

But as first year progressed, Draco came to realize that perhaps, it was not _Potter_ who was his competitor for the top (though he'd unfairly gotten onto the Gryffindor Quidditch team), but rather, Potter's Muggleborn friend, Hermione Granger.

Oh, how he hated that bookworm, who had bushy brown hair and buck teeth. Always acting as the teacher's pet, raising her hand in class to answer every question. Spending free time in the library. Kissing up to the teachers (luckily, Snape had some sense and ignored or insulted Granger instead). And of course, being Potter and Weasley's sidekick.

She was such a nuisance, because all the teachers loved her. When he came home from first year, after the whole ordeal with the Sorcerer's Stone (he bet he could have figured it all out, if only he'd had clues like Potter did), Father was furious with him, because, he'd found out that Draco was second in the class, right under a Muggleborn.

No matter how much he tried to say that it was just because the teachers were in love with the bookworm, Father would not back down, claiming that Draco was letting a girl beat him in studies. So in second year, Draco came back with a burning hatred for the girl. He called her "Mudblood". He made sure to make her life torture.

But even that didn't work out, because Granger infuriatingly seemed to win all of their fights. And so the hatred grew.

He remembered that when news came out that Granger and the Clearwater girl were Petrified, Draco was petrified too: with absolute joy! And when he said that he wished she was killed, he almost believed it to be true. Because then, he'd be the best of the best, in his father's eyes.

Second year and third year. Those were the two years that he hated Hermione Granger, with such a passion that he shook when he thought about her bushy hair and annoying voice.

But fourth year was when it started to change. The Triwizard Tournament temporarily brought his mind away from Granger - his hatred was directed more at Potter, who had somehow gotten his name into the Goblet, becoming a fourth Champion.

So perhaps that was the reason why Draco didn't realize she was creeping up on him until the day of the Yule Ball. Standing next to Pansy, looking up at his idol, Viktor Krum, he hadn't even known the Quidditch star's date was Granger until he'd really taken a look at her face.

She was transformed, that night. Her hair in smooth, glossy brown curls. Her eyes bright. She didn't look anything like the bookworm he knew her as. She was… different.

Which was why, after that night, Draco kept telling himself to stop thinking about how she looked. Because that wasn't the usual Granger. That Granger disappeared, and was no longer one with the Granger he saw in class, in the library, out at the lake.

But the second task came along, and as Draco looked around at the stands, he knew that he wouldn't find Granger there - she was underwater in the lake, and there- there was Krum diving in to save her. And he felt something stir inside him. Its name was jealousy, but Draco didn't know that then. He wouldn't know that until he was sixteen, and watching her fume about Weasley and his girlfriend.

Fifth year was the year that he realized he didn't hate Granger. Sure, they still fought whenever they saw each other. Of course, he still insulted her, just as she insulted him. But somehow the hatred had gone away, leaving him confused and utterly lost.

Sixth year, he found his place, only to be put in another maze: one of death. The Dark Lord was forcing him to kill Dumbledore, and if he didn't… he and his family would be killed.

It helped that he wasn't constantly wondering what Granger meant to him, but it didn't help that that meant he now knew how obsessed he was with her. He couldn't figure out any other word to describe what he felt. "Obsession". Surely that was the only idea that could account for him, a Death-Eater-to-be, being in love with her, Harry Potter's best friend?

It was, in his opinion, and since "obsession" wasn't particularly a nice word, Draco decided that he simply could not obsess over Hermione Granger anymore.

Luckily, other events, such as his plan to kill Dumbledore, seemed to get in his way, some. Yes, there was at least that to keep his mind off of Granger. Of course, that also meant he'd be plotting how to kill his headmaster. It killed him to do so. It made every waking and sleeping moment hell for him.

And when he stood at the Astronomy Tower, over Dumbledore, two things crossed his mind: that the only thing he wanted to do was throw down his wand and run away, and that this was surely the biggest indication that he and Granger could never be, assuming she would even take and interest in him (but she wouldn't). Because after all, he was standing over the leader of the Light Side, a Killing Curse on the tip of his tongue.

He didn't end up being the one to kill Dumbledore. No, he was pushed aside by Snape, who killed Dumbledore for him. This didn't lessen the guilt - in fact, it almost added to it.

Seventh year. Granger… she was on the run with the blasted Potter and Weasley. He didn't know what he expected, but after hearing that she wasn't coming to Hogwarts (she'd be killed if she did), he walked around in a daze for a week.

There wasn't a day that passed without him wondering what was happening to her. Was she being killed that very moment he was in the Potion's dungeon? Was she fighting Death Eaters while he was stuck in class, learning about useless charms?

These constant thoughts were always in his mind - that was, until he witnessed a piece of what she was going through.

It was during the holidays, when he was back at home. The Snatchers (Greyback included) had claimed to capture Potter, Weasley, Granger, and a handful of others. And as soon as the captives were dumped into the room, Draco knew that this - this was Hermione Granger.

But he didn't tell his parents that. He didn't tell his aunt or the Snatchers that. He couldn't.

Just like he couldn't object when his aunt picked Hermione out of the captives to torture. He couldn't object as he watched his aunt perform curse after curse on Hermione. Not when he personally witnessed her strength fading, her screams ringing in his ears, each worse than the last. He couldn't object, not when he was told to check to see how Pettigrew was doing in the dungeon with Potter and the others.

But Draco played along with them. Because he knew (he'd spent the past six years listening to their voices) that it was Weasley who pretended he was Wormtail. He knew that Potter and Weasley had managed to overpower Wormtail. And yes, he knew that they could escape, but that was okay, because surely that would mean that Granger could escape.

So later, through the pandemonium, he watched as Dobby - that damned house-elf - escaped, taking Potter with him, leaving his aunt and Snatchers in an absolute rage. He watched the Dark Lord's anger flare up and strangle them for letting Potter go. But Draco was content, because from the whole ordeal, he realized one thing: he and Granger could never be together. The torture she endured made it clear enough.

And this lasted through the remainder of the war, and afterwards. Draco was a realist - he didn't like thinking about things that couldn't happen.

After Potter helped him be freed from custody, Draco heard and read many stories about Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. There wasn't a week where there was not a single article about them in the _Daily Prophet_. It was blatantly obvious that the two were becoming a couple - and perhaps that was when Draco started to recreate his life.

Years passed. He became reaquainted with Astoria Greengrass, someone he'd known as a child. And before he knew it, he was asking her to marry him. She said yes, and Draco felt happy - he _swore_ he was happy, until he got the invite to Hermione and Ron's wedding.

And it was at the wedding that he truly let her go. She was at the altar in her white dress - looking just as beautiful and radiant as she had at the Yule Ball so many years ago. And she was looking around. He sat up straighter, his arm around Astoria growing stiff. He knew she was looking around for him.

For the briefest moment, their eyes met. Draco didn't dare breathe until Hermione looked away, back into Weasley's eyes. And suddenly, the place was breathless, waiting for the bride to say her two words. Draco's eyes never left her back. Perhaps…

And then she said them, and when the preacher later asked everyone to "speak now or forever hold your peace", Draco didn't say a thing. He just tightened his arm around Astoria, and buried his head in her shoulder for a moment.

Because Draco Malfoy always thought he was the best of the best, until he met Hermione Granger. She made him see that he wasn't the best of the best, because surely, if Draco were to be, then Hermione Granger would love him back.

* * *

**I wrote this all in one sitting, and didn't even skim it over at the end, so I'm really sorry if there are any grammar or spelling mistakes in here, and if it got a bit lousy at the end. But I had fun writing it, just as a little refresher from my other story! ~**

**Reviews, anyone? Thanks :)**


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